First-Time Killer
by Cyri's Alter Ego
Summary: Deep breath in, deep breath out. Heart beating, thump-thump-thump. She was going to kill him. A story of the first murderer, told from the killer's perspective. Spoilers for chapter one, of course, as well as swearing and blood.


_I don't own Dangan Ronpa._

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**First-Time Killer**

* * *

Well, here he was.

Leon looked from the note in his hand to the nameplate on the door in front of him. _'I want to speak with you alone. Please come to my room in five minutes. Be sure to check the nameplate so you don't get the wrong room. –Sayaka Maizono'_

If it had been pretty much anyone else, Leon would have been pissed. It was one o' clock in the freakin' morning. He was breaking curfew by wandering about at night like this (not that he particularly cared, but he would have hated to be caught by what'sherface, Celes – chick was creepy as fuck), and what was Maizono doing up at this time anyway?

But still… it was _Maizono_. Even if it was the dead of night, was Leon really going to refuse an invitation from the smoking (holy _fuck_, was she smoking) Super High School Level Idol?

Of course not. He wasn't stupid.

He raised his hand to buzz the intercom.

He was a little bit nervous, though.

No answer. Leon buzzed again, shifting his weight from foot to foot and shooting furtive glances down the corridor. If he was caught he was fucked. When there was still no reply from within, Leon pushed on the door. To his surprise, it opened with a creak. What, was she waiting for him on her bed in her underwear or something?

If only.

"Maizono-san?" Leon entered the room cautiously, shutting the door behind him. Damn, it was dark. Only the light from a bedside lamp allowed him to see anything at all. "Hey, Maizono-san?" There was no one in sight. "It's me, Kuwata…"

There was a practice katana on the table on one side of the room. Weird. Leon didn't have one of those in his bedroom. He approached it slowly, apprehension growing, and then-

"D-don't move."

Ignoring the instructions of the speaker completely, Leon spun around, and- _shit_.

Maizono was here after all. She was glaring at him, her china-doll face shining with sweat. Her chest was rising and falling heavily, deep breath in, deep breath out, heart thud-thud-thud. And Leon's breath was rising to match it, heart fast, bang-bang-bang against his ribs. There was a knife. Pointed. At him. She had a knife.

"What the fuck," Leon whispered quietly.

"I-" Maizono was shaking furiously. It was a big knife, too. A good six inches of sharp blade, one of those monsters from the kitchen. Shit. She wasn't fucking around. "Please forgive me, Kuwata-kun!"

Leon still hadn't decided if this was some piss-poor attempt at a joke when she lunged. "Christ!" Leon leapt backwards and grabbed the closest thing to him – the practice katana. The gold-leaf covering came off on his hands, but he had no time to think, because she was going for another shot. "Holy _shit_, Maizono, what the hell do you think you're doing?" he cried, voice cracking as he blocked the knife with the katana. It left a deep slash on the sheath, and _god-fucking-damn_, what if that had been his _chest_-

"I have to get out of here!" Maizono shouted. Tears were streaming down her face as she sliced the air wildly and Leon blocked for the third time, and Leon's heart was still beating pound-pound-pound, because if he didn't _do something_ it wouldn't be for much longer, and his dad had always told him stupid shit like how he should never make a girl cry…

"Are you trying to _kill me_?" His body was going horribly shaky as they did a sort of dance around the room. He was still half-hoping it would all be a joke and she would suddenly straighten up with that dumb pretty-girl smile, but no such luck, because that shot would have torn his throat to shreds if he hadn't ducked and let her tear the wall instead. His heart was still speeding as though it knew it only had limited time left and as trying to squeeze in a whole lifetime of beats, directly in tempo with his thoughts – _whatthefuck, whatthefuck, whatthefuck_.

She had paused for breath, standing in the doorway so that his only exit was blocked. Her hair was sticking up. "You wouldn't understand!" she said shrilly. In her voice, Leon remembered the girl who had fled from the A/V room earlier that day. He hadn't realised how close she was to the edge. "I need to get out of here!"

Stupid. Crazy. This wasn't Maizono.

If only he could stop her charging at him. All he needed to do was stop her charging at him. Heart beating thump-thump-thump. Deep breath in, deep breath out. That was precious; that was evidence he was alive. Like hell he was gonna die here.

"Maizono-san," Leon said, in the calmest, most rational voice he could muster, "drop the knife. Please."

She gripped it tighter, the shadow of a whimper escaping her.

"Please, Maizono-san." If he wasn't going to die, then what was this pure fear rushing through him, unadulterated, making him shake? He heard blood in his ears. This was so fucking stupid. He hadn't made Super High School Level Musician yet. He hadn't banged that hot hairdresser yet. He hadn't banged _anybody_ yet. Only bases he'd ever passed were in fucking baseball.

"I don't want to die!"

"You're the one with the fuckin' meat cleaver, dumbass." His words were quick, but he was so fucking afraid. Maizono clutched the knife closer to her, shaking her head as Leon took a step closer. "Maizono. Drop. The. Knife."

"I can't!"

"Have you gone round the loopy-chick freakin' bend?!" snapped Leon suddenly, his fear bubbling into anger. Maizono flinched.

God, that knife looked sharp. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Fantastic, now she looked like she was going to charge again. Leon gripped the katana tightly. Maizono's eyes refilled with tears – "I'm so sorry, Kuwata-kun," she whispered. "But even if you scream… No one can hear you now."

"You're mental!" Now Leon was the one yelling shrilly. "Dumbass! You're fuckin' crazy!"

She jumped, but Leon's reflexes were quicker even when every nerve in his body wasn't tensed. Swiftly, he unsheathed the katana, ducking and then bringing the blunt weapon down on the hand holding the knife. It was a batter's swing. A crack rent the room. Maizono's wrist went limp as she cried out and dropped the knife.

She dropped the knife.

There was a split second pause. The two of them made the briefest of eye contact. And then they dived for it.

There was no gentlemanly politeness involved now. Leon reached the knife first and elbowed Maizono out of the way, jarring her injured wrist as he snatched up the weapon. And then he had it. He had it. He was holding the knife. The katana lay forgotten on the floor, and he was holding the knife in front of a wounded and now defenseless girl.

_(This is messed up as hell.)_

The knife was heavier than he'd imagined. She was still blocking the door, but- Leon took a step towards her and she screamed, loud and high. It was an awful sound. Leon's blood pounded – he wanted out of here, _now_. He just wanted out wanted out wanted out wanted out-

His footsteps were heavy and he found himself advancing on Maizono like he was going to attack her. Fuck. He wasn't, was he? Of course not. Fuck.

She darted, like a wild animal. Maybe it was the adrenaline, like Leon, her fragile heart throb-throb-throb. Clutching her wounded arm, she ran into the bathroom and slammed the door. Instinctively – still holding the knife – _what the shit, what the shit_ – he followed her and banged on it.

"Maizono, get out here!"

Hell, that was harsher than he'd meant. Louder, too. There was a whimper from inside. Leon tried the handle – hand shaking, sweaty, almost slipping from his grasp. Locked.

"Maizono-san!"

"Leave me alone!"

Leave her alone? Leave _her_ alone? He hadn't asked to be full-on assaulted with a kitchen knife. If Maizono had had her way he'd be bleeding on the ground right now with a blade in his gut. And she wanted _him_ to leave _her_ alone?

But then his eyes flickered to the door. Startling, really, how quickly his mindset could change. He had wanted out – she was cornered. She couldn't harm him anymore. He had the weapon. He could make it out of this room alive.

Within a second his jittery mind was made up. Leon turned tail and fled.

He didn't stop until he was back in his room. He shut the door tight and slid down it, running his hands through his hair. His blood was still racing like he'd run a marathon.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck him. Fuck her. Fuck everything.

There were tears rising in his eyes – stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. He thought of Maizono, hiding terrified in her bathroom. She'd tried to kill him. She _would_ have killed him. What would happen now?

What if she tried to kill him again?

He'd broken her wrist. He hadn't meant to do that – damn baseball reflexes. The others would definitely notice that, tomorrow. What if she said that he'd attacked _her_? And then killed someone else, and blamed it on him?

Leon had no real friends in here. Naegi was everyone's bud, but he doted on Maizono. Fujisaki was too timid to speak up. Asahina might give him the benefit of the doubt – but if he was honest, who would any of them really believe, the Super High School Level Idol or some punk-ass wannabe rock star?

Any of them could kill him. It wasn't just Maizono. Any of them could kill him.

"I have to get out of here," Leon whispered, voice catching on his tears. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists – and then he realised.

He still had the knife.

_(No no no no no no no please no I can't I can't I can't I can't I'm not a killer I'll do anything I swear I'm not a killer)_

But neither was Sayaka Maizono.

* * *

It wasn't hard. In fact, it was remarkably easy. The toolkit Monokuma had given him took care of the locked door. She was still inside, huddled on the floor with pain and fear on her face.

"K-Kuwata-kun." Her voice cracked and broke – Leon could almost hear her heart beating like his, a drumroll, thud-thud-thud, bang-bang-bang. "I-I'm sorry… please, Kuwata-kun…"

Fuck. Was he really doing this? But those were thoughts in the back of his head, somewhere distant. No other choice. No other choice.

In the end, he didn't even look at her. Shut his mouth and closed his eyes like a coward as he stabbed her, feeling warm wet blood on his arm as he plunged the knife deep into her stomach with the horrible resistance of flesh against metal.

It was to her credit that she didn't really scream. Only a strangulated cry to accompany the pool of dark, dark blood that was puddling around her. It hadn't been clean – could he do anything right? – and the blood was splattered both over him and the wall behind her.

Leon saw himself in the bathroom mirror, and realised the one who was screaming was him.

It brought him to his senses. Just a little. Just enough to appreciate the horror of what the everloving hell he had just done.

The knife was still stuck in her. The bleeding was slowing down now, and her eyes had fluttered shut. No dying words, no shuddering last breaths, nothing. Just cold death, iron-smelling blood, and a murderer staring at an empty body.

_(No no no no no no no no no)_

He felt a dreadful nausea tingling around the corners of his mouth, and only just got the toilet lid open in time. He threw up, vomited his insides until he was retching bile – _murderer, murderer_ – then glanced over at the body, and, seeing that one of her arms was still twitching, leaned over and began to heave again.

_(Please no, no no no this is a dream this isn't real it can't be real it can't be)_

By the time he straightened up and wiped his mouth, he was shaking uncontrollably. One thing was certain – he couldn't stay here. He couldn't even stand to look at her. Quickly, guiltily, he stole out of the bathroom and closed the door.

Her bedroom was a mess. The katana was on the floor, and there were slashes on the ground and walls from their earlier scuffle. Leon stood there for a moment, helpless and tiny, thinking of the body just feet away from him.

The others couldn't find out this was him. That thought stood out in his jumbled mind quite clearly.

There was a lint roller on the floor by the bed. Mind numb, Leon slowly approached it and picked it up. Wasn't this what happened in those crime shows? The murderer makes a kill, then disposes of the evidence? Well, there was nothing he could do about those marks on the walls, and he sure as hell wasn't going back to touch Maizono's body, but he was the only student in the Academy with red hair. A dead giveaway.

Scouring the carpet for hairs was a horrible task, because it left his mind free to wander. Maizono. The knife. Blood. Blood. Maizono. Shaking. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Heart still uncontrollable, pound-pound-pound. His was still working. Hers wasn't. It would never thump like this again.

She'd tried to kill him.

He almost had to run back to the bathroom to be sick again.

The way Leon went about disposing of his evidence was mechanical. Absent-mindedly, he went to the washroom (thinking of washing the blood – _Maizono's blood, fuck shit fuck_ – from his shirt), but then he realised how stupid of an idea that was. The water wasn't on at night. He didn't have _time_-

In the end, he simply burnt it. It wasn't like he would ever wear it again, anyway. He took a glass ball from the laundry room and launched it at the incinerator to hit the on button, throwing his shirt in with a pitcher's accuracy. That was it, he thought as he watched it disintegrate, that was all, it had to be – he couldn't wait to get back to the safety of his room, but when he did, he just felt unspeakably hollow.

_(Murderer murderer murderer murderer)_

Sleep wasn't an option. As if that needed to be said. Leon paced around the room, dark images of idol bodies flashing through his mind. He desperately wanted Monokuma to make his morning announcement so that the water would come back on. He hadn't put another shirt on yet, but he felt filthy, filthy, _filthy_-

What seemed like an age later, the TV on the wall flickered to life. "Good morning, you guys! It's now seven A.M.! Rise and shiiiine!" the voice of Monokuma cackled. "Let's make today into the best day it can be!" It was like music to Leon's ears – he stripped off furiously and raced into the shower.

He turned the water on too hot and showered for much too long. His bathroom looked too similar to Maizono's. It was too easy to see her body, lifeless, among the steam and spray. Leon rubbed his face, desperately trying to get rid of any trace of her.

He was terrified of facing the other students. What if they'd already found her? What if they _knew_?

_(Oh shit oh shit oh shit)_

He was still convincing himself he had to face them even as he reached the doors to the dining room ten minutes later. He was late as it was. Couldn't be any more suspicious. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Heart in his throat, thud-thud-thud.

Plastering on a smile as false as Maizono's, Maizono's pretty-girl smile, he walked into the kitchen.

"My bad, my bad… I slept in!"

* * *

_I love Leon, and I think a lot of people write him off because he died so early. I hope this made you feel differently about him!_

_Thinking about doing one of these for all of the killers - what do you think?_


End file.
